Megatron: Being bold means the ability to take risks. At any moment a tunnel could collapse, tools could malfunction, or one wrong step or loss of balance could lead to a fall for kliks (kilometers) in the Energon mining cavern. Though I didn't know how significant of a risk it would be for my desire for change. I was told that articulating the injustices would not be enough and that I would personally need to do more to change the system. I would need to force the issue, and I would need to use both my processor and my fists. I didn't want to believe that would be the case. My articles did catch audiences but not just for my intended, which I expected. Still, I did think about taking a break from it. Other than my brother, I thought the most they could take from someone who has virtually nothing was their life. I was wrong.

I was diagnosed with a "mental illness" by Senate's chief psychopathologist Froid simply by looking through my documents. He brought along with him a colleague of his, Trepan, a mnemosurgeon part of an Institute facility under a relinquishment clinic.

A relinquishment clinic is where a bot donates one's body shell so that someone else, for a high fee, could use Sparkswap Technology to use that vacant shell to experience life in a completely different alt-mode. It's generally a nasty form of body tourism since the general masses are fixed with the alt-modes they are created with. The Elites could afford full body modification at these places. If not an elite, a senate member likely made a deal with an assassin. Relinquish clinics held another sinister use, more specifically below it. That is where another corrupt facility the Senate had used resided, the Institute, where bots are generally sent to be 'nudged into the right direction.' By what they define as 'nudged into the right direction,' it's to stick a bunch of needles into your processor to tamper with your mind, your thought process, and who you are so that 'you see that status quo, is the status quo for a reason.' 

The very few reasons why I wasn't sent to a relinquishment clinic were: why would they take so much time and resources to bring a lowly miner from the remaining non-automated outpost? Knowing my former alt-mode status, why would anyone want to experience what's it like for your spark to be treated so cheaply? 

That mech was so close to removing who I am from my processor, and what all I have left now. Though I guess I am the luckier one here.

...: With what you have described I may not want to know who I was and what I may have lost along the way. I may have been a part of the problem for you.

Megatron held back a chuckle from his voice box from such irony the bot had commlink him. 

Megatron: Later I learn why I was spared having that taken from me. The few times I find there may be someone in the Senate that actually cared otherwise try to save face with the Cybertronian public. The Senate the day before had passed and require two signatures by both chief psychopathologists before they allow nmemosurgeons to do such an invasive procedure.

There I learn there are even worse procedures they could do such as empurata, in which they don't just remove memories of who you were but head and servos in place of faceless and digit-less ones so people know they should shun you. Then again miners are already very close to that, besides the homeless; addicts; drug distributors; gang affiliated or retriever around Tarn, Kaon, and Slaughter City (also known as vultures and scavengers among the locals) especially if they live in the scrap yard.

Two of the Senate workers left the vicinity quickly. I went back to miner quarters where everyone there was evacuating. My brother tracked me. Try to drag me out. I did what I could to evade him. When I made it to where our rock berth where he tackled me. We wrestled on the floor trying to wail at one another or slam each other around. He was close to intent on caving in my chassis from how frustrated he was with me. Angry at me that I couldn't break away from writing and risk becoming a drone inside of the shell we were placed in. I was still willing to go back for the articles in spite of nearly losing what I thought they couldn't take.

I didn't intend on allowing them to take who I am, I would rather die before that, even if it means fighting for it. I was seen as a threat despite how lowly I told I was. I found that they found they had something to fear in me and that was someone who basically have nothing to lose, only something to gain as I'll do what I can to be smarter and become a challenge.

My brother loosen his grasp. Got me back on my pedes and helped me collect my work.